


Don't Forget

by the_painless_moustache



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Car Accidents, Gen, Hospitals, Implied Nouis pining, OT5 Friendship (One Direction), This is literally a fic about how much everyone loves Niall and Niall isn't even in it, Vague Understanding of what a hospital is like for rich people, Zayn is and will always be part of One Direction fight me, except the ending isn't necessarily happy? it's not even really an ending, like don't come @ me for the ending please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23109817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_painless_moustache/pseuds/the_painless_moustache
Summary: Niall gets into a car accident.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	Don't Forget

**Author's Note:**

> I gave this a cursory read through but I'm so out of the game I can't even tell if this is in character anymore. HMU with typos!

Zayn hadn't expected much of anything when he showed up. Maybe a couple of nods from the boys acknowledging him, acknowledging the pain he has to be in as well. But that's not what he gets. What he gets is Harry looking at him as if he'd done this to Niall himself.

"Finally decided to show up?" Harry sneers, and Zayn fights the urge to remind him that if he’d been more welcomed in the first place perhaps he’d have been here sooner. Instead he lets his eyes drift to Liam, who doesn't quite meet his gaze, and Louis who's wrapped up in a sweater in a corner hiding his face in his knees. So nothing's changed then.

"I came as soon as I could," he finally says. It's the wrong thing to say. He knows it is. But he says it anyway because he's never been particularly great at saying the right things.

"What, when it was convenient?" Harry snaps.

"Harry," Liam scolds gently from his corner.

Something about Liam's tone hackles him and he's already vibrating with agitation—from the news of Niall's accident, from the nerves of being here, from Harry's needling—so he snaps "You don't get to act like you care any more about me than he does."

Liam doesn't even have the good grace to act surprised. "C'mon, mate."

He turns to Harry. "And where do you get off telling me I shouldn't be here? When was the last time either of you twats spoke to Niall? You've been too busy kissing Stevie Nix's arse and you," He points at Liam. "Are too busy buying boats to save your joke relationship."

Liam leaps across the room, grabs him by both sides of the shirt and shakes him. "Shut your fucking mouth."

"Sorry _mate_ , but that was never a choice for me."

Liam might've hauled off on him but Louis's chair creaks and quietly, but with finality that none of them can argue with, he says "We're all cunts, alright? Put him down."

Liam's mouth works like he might say something else but he lets Zayn go and stalks back to his spot of the room. Louis wipes at his face, red and puffy with previous tears. He doesn't look at any of them. "We're here for Niall, alright? Doesn't fucking matter how we feel about each other, because we love _him_."

God, Zayn hates him. Hates how he can fucking get under all of their skin like that; a few well placed words that hit all the buttons they need to. He hates that he can _still_ do that. "What happened?" Zayn asks. At first he just means to Niall, but without the clarification it could also mean to the rest of them and that's not an answer he'd pass up either.

Louis shoves his sleeve into his mouth. Liam collapses into a chair. Harry's shoulders drop.

"What happened to Niall?" Zayn repeats.

"S'just an accident." Harry mumbles.

"Some drunk fucker," Liam adds. "Took Niall's car out. He rolled into a ravine. They drove off."

Zayn's heart hammers. _Drove off_ , just left Niall in the wreckage of his car. Dying, possibly dead. "But he's okay?"

"They haven't told us much." Harry admits. "Bobby called because..."

Zayn doesn't need him to finish his sentence. Bobby called them all because they're all four on Niall's speed dial still, right behind himself and his mum. Bobby called because for better or worse they're Niall's family and if something horrible were going to happen, they would all rather be there than not.

He takes the fourth corner of the room, slides down against the wall next to the table with coffee and bottled water on it. _Private waiting rooms_ , Zayn thinks with some sense of relief. No one to watch them try to fit their fractured pieces back into this shitty puzzle for however long they're here.

"Louis's been here longest." Liam says unnecessarily. Of course he has. Louis's rarely more than a few hours time from Niall, though neither of them will ever speak of why. Zayn thinks maybe when they were younger he might've been in love with him—who wasn't, really, and isn't that why they're here?—but time and maturity has turned it into something softer. No less strong, just rounded on the edges.

"I haven't seen Bobby since I got here," Louis mumbles. "I don't know anything more than you guys."

"So now we just wait?" Harry asks with a slight frown. Ah yes, his least favorite activity. Waiting.

Zayn settles back against the wall and lets his cheek rest on his shoulder. Waiting's about the only thing he'd call himself good at.

***

Niall stands on the other side of his door awkwardly, still picking his fingernails despite the fact that's what's brought him here in the first place. Zayn sighs and turns to go to the bathroom for the plasters. "Sorry," Niall mumbles after him. "It's—it's just nerves 'bout tomorrow."

"I don't care that you're here, Niall." Zayn says. His box is nearly half empty now all thanks to Niall's fingers. He brings them over and winces at his bleeding cuticles. "Just wish you wouldn't do this to yourself."

"Can't help it." Niall sighs, handing over both hands so Zayn can start bandaging them. Come tomorrow night they'll probably be doing this all over again. Maybe for the last time. Niall looks up at him, big blue eyes wide in that narrow face. "You nervous?"

"'Course I'm nervous," Zayn huffs. They're both wide awake at near three in the morning, of course they're both nervous. "It's a big deal."

"Didn't even think I'd get this far."

"Knew you would."

Niall looks up again, and this time his eyes seem bigger. Maybe it's the smile working its way over his mouth. "Yeah?"

"Wouldn't lie to you, would I?" Zayn chides, bandaging his last finger—four of them tonight, particularly bad—and taking his hand in both of his. "C'mon, Nialler, thought you knew me better than that."

Niall pulls his hand free with a snort but he's smiling and that's good enough for Zayn. He catches the top of his head, tousling his hair just before he leaves.

***

Harry's been desperate for a cup of coffee since about an hour since Zayn showed up. Now that he's passed out next to it, he's got a headache and his mouth is dry and he still can't bring himself to his feet.

He hates Zayn for that.

Liam seems to have the opposite problem, standing and pacing the room a couple of times, pausing near each of them like he might say something but he never does. He never has. Sweet, passive Liam who wouldn't fight with any of them for anything. The work they'd all had to do just to get him to speak up at all was monumental. They'd always been proud of it, proud of each other. Proud of the things they did together.

Harry can't quite remember the last time he felt proud like that.

He forces himself to his feet when Liam does his third circle, landing next to the table—next to Zayn—with an awkward pause. Harry nods to him and plugs one of those little cups into the coffee maker, putting the paper cup underneath to catch it. It hisses and vibrates and they both glance at Zayn but he seems to be out cold. Harry heard he flew in from New York, but he hadn't bothered to ask.

Isn't that how it's always been?

The coffee maker spits the dredges into his cup with a _plop_ and Harry sighs as he picks it up to drink it all in one go.

"That's only going to make you feel worse." Liam offers. It's the one thing he knows he knows. How each of them should be taking care of their bodies, how they're all failing. In another life he's a gym teacher or a nurse or something. The same life where Harry hadn't made the trip to London, had instead switched from his job at the bakery to one in the grocery store. The same life where none of them had met at all.

The life where Niall isn't lying in a hospital bed dying.

He crumples his cup, but it doesn't keep his hand from shaking. He stalks over to the trash can by the door and throws it. "Not sure anything could make me feel worse, Liam."

He hears Liam open his mouth but no words come out. _Laid-back Liam, Peaceful Payno..._ He turns around and meets Liam's eyes. "Do you think coffee is really going to make this situation worse?"

"I just know that caffeine is going to make you anxious, and—"

"I'm already anxious, Liam! My best friend is _dying!_ "

Liam's whole face goes red, anger rushing to his head. Much like the Hulk, Zayn always said. It made Liam blush every time. "If you were so worried about him, you would've been around before now."

Harry pushes him. He doesn't really mean to but he doesn't feel bad about it until Liam shoves him back because Liam's twice his size. He does things like regular lifting and doesn't do things like drinking shit hospital coffee. He goes tumbling back, knocking into the bin.

"Fucking _Christ_ ," Louis laughs dryly. They both look at him, at the tears dried on his face. "You're all fucking idiots."

Liam takes the chastising and goes back to his seat. Harry's never been a particularly good kid—always had an attitude that he sweetened with a good smile—so he spits out the thing he knows is going to hurt Louis most. "Just because Niall won't let you ride his dick doesn't give you an excuse to hop on ours."

Maybe he wants the fight. He's good at getting kicked around, getting his own hits in between, and then licking his wounds. He feels sick with who he is and still he says shit like that and the cycle goes on.

Louis just sighs, tucking himself back into his knees. Harry feels more sick with it. They used to fight so beautifully, both cut from the same cloth of give-and-take. They all used to be so much better than this.

He sits back down, still shaking and with a headache only barely chased off. Maybe they all used to be worse, he thinks. Maybe he's the only one who hasn't gotten better.

***

"You smell like smoke." Niall mutters as Harry crawls into bed with him. Harry hums and grabs the remote from Niall's stomach. "Have fun with Louis then?"

"Always do."

"You two are somethin' else." Niall chuckles, scratching his belly. They've both got this room tonight, with Zayn and Louis on the bus and Liam in the solo room so he can have his time with Sophie. Harry tries not to be jealous but he almost always fails.

"Not all of us can be made of sunshine, Niall." Harry huffs, skipping channels. He's not even really looking to see what's on.

"M'not."

"You don't have a single bad bone in your body." Harry argues. "Can't bring yourself to say a bad word about anyone. I'd call you a rainbow, but you've got to have rain to have one of those."

Niall's laughing now, not full out because it's late and they're all tired, but he's definitely got that crinkly eyed smile. "I'm Irish, Harry, we bottle our feelings like pros!"

"You couldn't bottle your feelings if you were Ribena."

"Get out," Niall orders, shoving him. It rolls him across the bed but it doesn't get him quite all the way off. That's the difference, after all. Louis would've full on kicked him out of bed, possibly even out of the room. Niall can't even steal covers.

"You're too nice, Niall." Harry insists, crawling back. "Case in point, I'm going to tell you I want to watch The Notebook again and you're going to let me."

Niall looks like he debates arguing for a second before he rolls his eyes. "I'm half asleep anyway, so I don't care what you watch."

" _Too nice_ ," Harry scolds, tapping his sternum with the remote. He buys The Notebook from Pay-Per-View and settles into his shoulder to watch.

***

Bobby comes out at last and Liam's first to his feet. He's not closest to the door, but Zayn is still asleep and Harry's facing the TV and Louis hasn't lifted his head since Harry told him off. Bobby looks dead tired and seeing the four of them so far apart only seems to make it worse. Liam steps towards him with a hand out like he might need to catch him. "Is he—"

Everyone turns, even Zayn who hadn't even stirred during his and Harry's screaming match but maybe that was more intentional than any of them had chosen to believe. Bobby drags his eyes over each of them again before letting them fall to the floor. "I dunno, I—I canna..."

"Sit down," Liam urges quietly, taking him to the nearest seat which ends up next to Louis. Louis unfolds from himself, tries to look a little more put together. Liam turns to gesture at Zayn for water but he's already on his way over with a bottle.

"I haven't even seen him properly, not since—" His throat catches, face twisting for a moment.

"He's always been the strongest of us." Harry insists as he sits at Bobby's side. "Independent and untroubled, our Niall."

Liam's stomach twists grotesquely, hard enough he has to step back. He stumbles to the wall to lean, rubbing his belly. Harry has an arm around Bobby as Harry would, comforting him in a way none of them could even start. Zayn's empty handed now, fingers flexing around the empty air. Louis is looking at Bobby trying to find his own words but coming up short.

They all always came up a little bit short for Niall, didn't they?

He remembers finding out about his knee surgery the day after he'd had it, a thing none of them had noticed. He'd been a little shorter-tempered than normal, and of course they were aware of his knee, but not a one of them had ever bothered to put two-and-two together. Liam had ripped his knuckles open boxing the night after that call, a bitterness on his tongue he couldn't wash away. And Niall had had his body ripped open and still somehow it had been about them, about _him_. About how Niall hadn't bothered to consider their feelings as if they were more important than his own.

Then there's Niall's relationships. If Liam was asked he'd say Niall had never had a serious one, but if he thought hard enough about it he'd surely have to be wrong. And how fucked up is it that Liam couldn't say for sure one way or another? Could he even confidently say the type of women Niall liked? Or if he liked blokes? He thought he might've, but he'd never _asked_.

Maybe someone did. Louis, probably, or Harry on one of those many nights of shared hotel rooms. Zayn when he was hiding from his own problems. But had Niall given any of them an answer? He'd never wanted to trouble them with his problems. Liam wishes more than anything now that he had.

"Liam?"

He turns to look at Harry. There's a tension in his shoulders but it's that one that tells Liam he's sorry without actually saying it. The one that says he's bracing himself for anger that he knows he deserves. "Sorry, what's that?"

"I'm going for something to eat. Bringing it up. Did you want something?"

"No," he mumbles and pushes against his stomach. "No, I—I'm not hungry."

"None of us are," Zayn mumbles from where he's sitting. He's picked a chair up and brought it closer to Bobby and Louis. He's looking straight at his lap. "But we've got to eat anyway."

Coming from anyone else Liam might've told them off but Zayn's pasty face reminds him that this time Zayn really does know best. "Just, um...something light, then. An apple."

"Sure," Harry agrees with a nod. He glances at Zayn with a look that tells Liam he's remembering the same things he is and then he leaves.

Liam takes the seat directly next to Louis. None of them bother saying anything, but Liam thinks that's rather the point of all this. None of them have ever bothered to stay silent for Niall before. He figures it's the least he can do now.

***

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Niall snorts, and even though he's wearing sunglasses Liam knows he doesn't even bother to open his eyes. "My thoughts are worth much more than that."

"What's the last spread we did?" he wonders as he joins Niall in the next pool chair over. "Cost about ten quid, didn't it?"

"Twenty, mate. We're big stars now."

"There you are, then. Twenty quid for your thoughts."

Niall full on laughs, kicking out with his leg to hit Liam's. There's still a bright and nasty scar on it, one that brings that bitter taste back into his mouth. Looking at it only makes it worse so he pointedly tries not to notice the shiny pink skin. "What makes you think I'm thinkin' at all, huh? Maybe I'm just enjoyin' a nice day, havin' a kip. Or I was, anyway, before my mate showed up puttin' prices on my thoughts."

"Fine! Have your kip, then, Nialler, but you're missing the girls across the way."

This gets him to lift his head. Liam sees his eyes squinting behind his sunglasses through the little gap between them and his face from the side. Across the pool is a brunette who's been giving him eyes all afternoon, not that Niall's noticed. Niall hardly ever does.

"She's alright, isn't she?" Niall mumbles mostly to himself, but there's something off about it. Like he can't quite convince himself of his own words.

"Go on, then. Use the twenty quid I owe you and buy her a drink."

Niall gives him a crooked grin. "Not my style, Payno. But I'll catch your twenty later, yeah? Get myself a new pair of socks."

"You and your fucking socks," Liam mutters as he stands to leave Niall to his kip. Niall's laugh follows him all the way into the water.

***

Bobby gets called back behind the doors of no return, or at least that's how it feels when he leaves. Louis's been waiting for what feels like days just to hear that Niall was going to be okay. It's only been hours, of course, but five long ones. He has no idea what's happening behind those doors, no idea what that nurse was thinking when she saw them all huddled around Bobby or what she was going to tell him once they were out of earshot.

He has no idea what he'll do if Niall isn't okay.

He folds himself back into the chair, tucks his knees under his sweatshirt and uses the position to comfort him. Eleanor's texted him a few times, but he's given up answering. He just doesn't have the energy to reassure her and himself.

Harry had brought back some crisps for him but he hasn't touched the bag. The only person who'd eaten was Bobby and it hadn't been much. There's half a sandwich and Louis's crisps sitting on a table devoid of tabloids. The one perk of a private room like this, he supposes, is they don't bother putting the magazines up. Most people who use this room don't want to see them.

Zayn has a bottle of juice he's sipping on and Liam's pushing an apple between his hands. Harry had gotten himself a proper cup of coffee but he'd also eaten bits of Bobby's half of the sandwich after he'd left.

They're all shutting down without Niall.

"It can't be like this." he mutters. He needs to say it. He's needed to say it for awhile, but he couldn't. How was he supposed to? There was a tentative peace between them, saying anything would've ruined it.

Maybe not saying anything ruined it, too.

"What d'ya mean?" Harry sighs.

"Us. We can't be like this anymore."

Zayn scoffs a little but it isn't really mean. Louis wouldn't blame him if it was, though. "Like what, Lou? Like a bunch of friends who burnt out on each other?"

"Like a bunch of arseholes who won't admit they're arseholes."

They all give a small laugh, a laugh of understanding. Of admittance.

"We all fucked up. We ruined it, all of us. We have to stop letting it be like that."

"It's not that simple," Liam starts, but Louis isn't going to hear that now. Not tonight.

He points a shaky finger at the doors. "Niall is in there dying and we can't even sit out here and say one good thing to each other. What if it were me? What if it were one of you? Niall wouldn't let it be like this."

Guilt ripples through each of them and Louis has to suck back tears when he looks at Zayn. "We weren't there for you like we should've been. _I_ wasn't there for you, and I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, Zayn."

"I didn't want you to be there for me," Zayn admits quietly. "I think some part of me thought it was what I deserved. Like I had to pay for getting so lucky."

"That's not true." Liam tells him. "You deserve everything you have, Zayn. We worked for it. You got sick, and—and we were shite about it. And I knew we were being shite but I couldn't say anything because I'm a fucking disaster myself."

"But a disaster with much better eating habits." Harry points out. Then he winces. "Fuck, that was—I'm sorry."

But Zayn laughs. It's a tired laugh, but it's a real one. It doubles him over from the effort of it. Louis manages a smile but it's all he's got in him. "God," Zayn breathes, sitting back with a smile. "We're all a fucking mess, aren't we?"

"Was there ever a time we weren't?" Harry wonders.

"Yeah," Liam sighs. "When we were together."

They fall into silence for awhile after that, each going back to their own fiddling. Then Louis puts a hand out. "C'mon, then. Let's see if we can clean this shit up."

Liam grins and tucks his hand over Louis's, and Zayn stands to do the same to Liam's. Harry moves to the seat next to him and puts his on top. They sit for a moment, each of them probably realizing there's one less hand than there should be. Louis nods to himself. "On three. One..."

The door creaks open. Bobby comes out looking more haggard than before but he smiles when he sees them huddled. "He'll be glad to hear this," he says.

They all drop their hands. "He's alright?" Louis asks, _begs_ even.

Bobby rubs at his own neck. "He will be. Rough road ahead, but you know Nialler."

Louis nods again, this time with immeasurable relief. They won't be missing that extra hand after all.

***

"C'mon then," Niall urges. Harry and Zayn are still glaring at each other but they've got a roaring arena outside and Niall isn't having any of it. Louis puts his hand out and raises his eyebrows at them. Niall slaps his hand over Louis's and Liam does the same to Niall. Zayn puts his in next, Harry coming in grudgingly.

"We're a fuckin' family," Niall hisses to them. "You wanna be shits about it, fine, but you love each other and you know it so fucking _act like it_."

"Couldn't have said it better myself." Louis agrees. Niall gives him a weak glare with a blush attached. "On three, boys."

_One, two, three, push!_

Zayn's off first, Harry going next in the opposite direction. Liam gives them both an apologetic look before settling somewhere neutral.

Louis throws an arm over Niall's already heavy shoulders. "They'll sort it out, Nialler. Not everyone can be as lovely as we are."

"It's like they've forgotten." Niall mumbles helplessly. "As if they didn't spend all those nights together at the house when they met or in the hotels after. How could they forget that?"

"Niall, you can't put their problems on yourself like this." Louis insists. "They'll get it sorted, and if they don't I'll kick their arse."

Niall huffs, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, Lou, that's the answer I wanted to hear. _If they can't love each other, I'll make them_."

"Stop worrying about them and start worrying about your outfit," Louis suggests. Niall elbows him in the ribs. He sticks a finger in the gaping hole in the side of Niall's cut-up t-shirt. "I can see your nipples, you know."

"Get out of my shirt." Niall laughs, swatting at him. It's so good to see him laughing that Louis keeps poking at his ribs until they get their call. Niall throws himself around him before he can so much as turn. Louis's heart still catches in his chest for moments like these. He took too long to admit his feelings, long enough that he had to tuck them away. But he still catches himself sometimes. He rubs Niall's back and then gives it a firm pat. "What's that for, then?"

"Not being an arsehole." Niall says with a beaming smile. Louis could kiss him—for a moment thinks he might—but then the music is going and they have to go. He gives Niall a smile back and claps a hand on his shoulder and thinks **_I_** _won't **ever** forget_.


End file.
